Dark Desire
by EverbloomMist13
Summary: HIATUS:20-year-old Elena Gilbert returns to Whitmore for her last year. There, she meets the mysterious new student Damon Salvatore. Despite the obvious attraction between them, Damon insists he isn't what she wants. But what secrets is the mysterious new guy hiding underneath his exterior? And will he be able to resist Elena? MORE DETAILED SUMMARY INSIDE!
1. One

**(Synopsis)**

20-year-old Elena Gilbert has returned to Whitmore College for the second half of her fourth year. There she meets the handsome and mysterious Damon Salvatore. Immediately, Elena finds herself drawn to him by an unknown force. While it's obvious he's attracted to her, Damon tells her that he's not the kind of guy she wants. But as they get closer, Elena and Damon soon realize that they won't be able to fight their attraction forever. As Elena gets closer to Damon, she realizes there's a Dark streak to him, but just what secrets is the new guy hiding underneath that playboy exterior of his? Will they send Elena running, or will she stay?

* * *

**ONE**

I stare out of the foggy passenger window of my mother's silver sedan. It's nearly 5 o'clock in the morning here in Atlanta, Georgia. The dawn sky is a deep, rich navy blue as my mother drives on I-64 E. The lingering moonlight reflects brilliantly on the glossy surface of a nearby lake out the window. I catch sight of myself in the side view mirror and sigh with sadness. My chocolate brown hair flows in the moist wind, covering my olive-toned, heart-shaped face. Big brown eyes stare back at me, glass-like and wide. I immediately shake my head as I swallow back tears. No, I won't cry. I yank my head away from the mirror as if this will prevent my tears. I've gone the last two weeks without crying, though I can't say the same for my mother. For the past week, my mother has been more fragile than a glass, as it was my last week home before returning to Whitmore for my second semester of fourth year. I inhale deeply as I close my eyes. In the next seconds, I reopen them and bite my lip nervously. I decide that the best way to ignore my saddening thoughts is to plug in my CD player. I know these things are severely outdated, but I don't mind. If you ask me, I prefer to have an actual CD than downloading it off of iTunes. OneRepublic drowns out the noisy wind and I lean my head softly on my shoulder as I resume staring out the window.

It's about quarter to six when my mother pulls over to the curb of the drop-off zone. I take a deep breath, willing myself not to cry, and once I feel convinced that I won't, I climb out of the car, mildly tripping on the laces of my converse. I reach in and grab my rucksack from the floor and slide my arms through it. I shut the door weakly as I turn to the back seat of the car to retrieve my two grey suitcases, full of the clothes that my mom and Aunt Jenna had insisted I buy. I'm not one to invest a considerable amount of money on clothes, but any time she can, Jenna jumps at the chance to buy me a new wardrobe. And it's worse with Jenna in the shop. Put them together in a mall, and they'll Bonnie & Clyde the place before noon.

"Elena," my mother's strained voice catches my attention as I grab my second suitcase out of the back of the red Sudan. I close the back door and place my suitcases on the sidewalk and lean into the passenger window. I lift my head up to her climbing out of the driver's seat.

"Mom," I choke, and suddenly, her warm arms are around me in an embrace, and I literally clench my fists in attempt to remain calm. My mother tenderly rubs my back, and I close my eyes, surrendering myself to her gentleness.

"You have no idea how proud of you I am," she smiles as she pulls away, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "And you know, your father would be here if he could-" As I feel the tears coming as I look at my mother and swallow. I've no doubt that I look exactly like her; watery brown eyes, puffy cheeks, flushed skin. The Gilbert Women Specialty.

"I know, Mom," I attempt to comfort her, placing my hand over hers. "Thanks for driving me to the airport." I smile through my unshed tears. If I don't leave now, I probably never will, or Niagara Falls will soon have nothing on me.

"Oh, Elena," her voice cracks, and I know what her unspoken words are.

"It was no trouble at all. I love you, and I'll miss you," she mouths, as her voice has disappeared.

"I love you, too," I breathe. Through the overhead intercoms, I hear several flights being called, and I the last flight I hear is mine. To Richmond.

Once the announcement ceases, my mother's arms loosen around me.

"You should go," she says softly with a smile. "Don't want to miss your flight."

"Bye, mom," I pull her in once again. I am sorely tempted to never let go, hop back in the car with her and go back home. But I need to do this. I've dreamt of going to Whitmore ever since I dreamt of being a writer. And if I walk away from it, I will regret it immensely. And I know the type of person that my mother is; she wouldn't drive away with me in the car. She knows that I need to do this. As I pull away from my mother, I quickly wipe my cheek with my sleeve. I stare into my mother's blue eyes.

"Call me when you land," she says as she caresses my cheek.

As I watch her walk back and hop into the car, I compose myself as haul my suitcases over onto the sidewalk. I watch the silver Sedan pull away from the curb. Once the taillights are just a memory, I make my way into the airport.

It's nearly six in the morning and the check-in line isn't too bad for a Wednesday morning. I wheel my suitcases over to the United line and stand behind a very PDA-invested couple. It takes about ten minutes for me to get up to front of the line. I dig out of my rucksack my ticket, my credit card and my driver's license

"I can help who's next!"

Immediately, I glance up to a blonde woman eyeing me down, and I quickly drag my suitcases to the service counter and a middle-aged man takes the first one and hauls it up on the conveyor belt for me.

"Thank you so much," I breathe as he hauls the second one up.

"No problem, ma'am," his green eyes twinkle.

"How can I help you?" the woman asks tiredly. Giving it is not even bright outside, I understand, otherwise I would consider her tone impolite.

"Um, hi. I need to get my boarding pass for flight 115 To JFK." I say. Immediately, she nods.

"If you could just give me a moment," she says, and immediately her fingers, as well as her attention, draw to the computer in front of her and she begins to type furiously. " I need to see your ticket and valid identification, ma'am," she says as she holds her hand out for my documents. I hastily her my ticket and driver's license and she resumes to her computer. I look around the airport and catch the clock. It's 5:52. I have about an hour until my takes off. I am mentally assessing if I have time to grab a bite to eat when the woman says, "Do you have any preference of seating, ma'am?" she asks as she hands the man who helped with my luggage the seals to tie to my bags. I watch absentmindedly as he slides them through the thick rubber flaps. As I feel a hole burning into my face, I turn to see her staring impatiently at me and I slowly digest her words.

"Sorry," I apologize. " No, thank you," I say. Without hesitation, she hastily glances back at the screen. "Okay, Ms. Gilbert, you're all set." she smiles unconvincingly and holds out my driver's license, credit card, ticket and boarding pass. I mumble a 'thank you' to her, taking my belongings from her.

"Next," she calls. God, I'm not even done grabbing my documents as the next person moves up behind me. Ignoring her impatient and dull attitude, I head over to security.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you,"

* * *

As I finish a chapter of my chosen novel companion,_ Pride & Prejudice,_ I place the flap in position, and close the book and stow it in my bag. Siting up, I close my tray table, and stare out at the city that is Richmond, VA. It's been nearly three weeks since I've back here. I groan inwardly as I recall Caroline, one of my roommates, already selecting a whole set of movies for us and our other roommate Bonnie to watch. I'm not a big socialite, but I do enjoy Care and Bonnie, even though they can be very intrusive and cheery. Suddenly, I am reminded that Caroline is arriving in from L.A., so she wouldn't be in Richmond yet. As she is getting in around the same time as me, we have agreed to carpool and as I am about to pull my phone out, I remember that all electronic devices need to be switched off now. I'll call her when I land.

* * *

Once the plane is on ground and the final announcement is made, I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach under my seat for my bag. Thankfully, no one sat on either side of me, so I have an easier access to the departing aisle. I merge into the line and wait patiently for my turn to exit the plane, and smile when I spot a young boy screaming at his mother over the long line. I am now at the front and feel a gust of bitter air as I step out of the plane and into the terminal. Immediately, I zip up my pale blue hoodie and hug myself until I reach the inside of the airport. It's overwhelmingly loud after such an early flight and the aroma of cinnamon and sausage surrounds me. I throw my rucksack over my shoulder and head straight to baggage claim and spot the fifth carousel labeled "ATLANTA-FLIGHT 115" and wait patiently for my two suitcases. I spot them and haul one at a time to the side. As I am about to haul my second, someone else grabs it for me.

"Excuse me, but that's my-" I say and turn to face the person who has taken my suitcase. And I blink in shock.

It's Caroline.

* * *

"Surprise!" Caroline grins, taking me in a big hug as I laugh.

"Oh, my god!" I smile back. "How are you?" I ask as she releases me, and I'm hit in the face with shock as I notice how tan she is. Then again, she is from California. "When did you get in?" I add. She smiles, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder.

"Not too long ago," she sighs. "I was just about to call you when I saw you over here," she tells me.

"So, how was your flight?" I ask. Immediately, Caroline moans, and I giggle. For anyone else, it would've been tolerable, but for Caroline...

"I'll take that as 'bad'" I giggle. Caroline scoffs as she waves her hand in front of me.

_ "Please., _bad doesn't even _begin_ to describe the fact that I had to sit next to a loud and obnoxious girl on the phone with her boyfriend," she splutters.

"Oh, baby, I am going to miss you so much," she mimics as she wrinkles her nose. "Oh, I want you hear with me right now. I wish you were with me.' It was _sickening._"

"Oh, that's too bad," I bite my lip, trying to hide my grin, but Caroline notices. "

What's so funny?" she snaps.

"Nothing," I smile. Seeing her glare, I confess.

"I was all alone in my row," I sigh, and she gives me an envious look. I realize that we are standing in the middle of the hall, blocking people. I quickly grab my suitcases and Caroline follows me as I walk towards car rentals.

"Lucky you," she murmurs. Desperate to change subject, I'm reminded that she never told me what kind of car her parents had rented for us.

"So, what kind of car did your parents rent for us?" I ask. Caroline's mom and dad are in the enforcement, so she's got the money. Her parents have arranged for a car to drive us from the airport to our apartment.

"I don't know, they wouldn't tell me," Caroline pouts. I nod, dismissing the topic.

"Oh, my god," Caroline stops suddenly, and I nearly tumble over onto the ground as I ram into her.

"What?" I ask, panicked. Did she forget something? She smiles up at me. I groan. I hate it when she makes me worry like that.

"You'll _never _guess what I heard," she grins, a mysterious gleam in her eye.

"What did you hear?" I ask, genuinely interested in the gossip she was about to tell. Some gossip, which, in Caroline's mind, is juicier than the celebrity stuff. Plus, Whitmore is pretty social, so anything and everything gets around quicker than a the Millennium Falcon on light speed.

"So I heard that the Dean's _incredibly_ hot son is going to be attending Whitmore this year!" she squeals as if she's just said Ryan Gosling showed up shirtless at her door last night. Immediately, I burst out laughing.

"And where do you get your information, Miss Forbes?" I tease.

"A little birdie named Rebekah Mikaelson" she says. Oh, of course. Rebekah, the ultimate gossip/flirt. has indeed been on campus for the past four weeks, and she, being incredibly popular, has heard about this rumor and spread it as if her life had depended on it. It's no wonder she's majoring in Journalism. Surely, if he's attractive, Rebekah will no doubt have her wicked way with him. Though the rules strictly prohibit any sort of relations with the faculty, and surely those rules are amplified for family of the faculty, i.e. the Dean. Although, I have no doubt that Rebekah will both ignore and find her way around the rules.

"Caroline Forbes: Are you going to _dare_ chase after the _Dean's_ son? The ultimate no-no?" I feign shock. Caroline bursts out in a fit of laughter.

"Maybe," she winks. Just as I am about to ask what his name is, we reach the car rentals. Lexi stops and asks me to watch the suitcases as she goes to get the car.

Bright, electric blue eyes hidden behind tousled, raven hair meet mine, and I suddenly swallow at the intensity of their gaze. A man, probably about a couple years older to four years older than me at the least, stands in front of me, I realize with complete embarrassment that I'm still touching his hand. Immediately, I snatch it away, surely the effect of awkwardness blowing through the roof. I suddenly find my gaze aiming at a perfectly sculptured mouth, but am brought back when it's owner speaks to me.

"Excuse me," he clears his throat, "but did you drop this?" he asks, holding my wallet. Oh, my god. I hadn't even noticed it was gone. I check my bag hastily and surely, my brown leather wallet is missing.

"Oh, god. Yes," I sigh in relief as I take it from him. Our hands touch for a millisecond, and my eyes dart to his. When he doesn't look away from me, I feel my cheeks heat. "Thank you," I say, relieved.

"Damon Salvatore," he grins, offering his hand. I look down at it for a moment before taking it, and when I do, I'm met with the alien spark of electricity that courses through my veins.

"So, Whitmore, huh?" he asks.

Wait... how did he know I was going to Whitmore?

"I saw it on your suitcase," he mutters, pointing to my suitcase as if explaining his unusual prying.

"Yeah," I nod. "Last year," I explain. He nods, and a small smile plays on his lips.

"Same," he says. "The college part, anyways. What are you majoring in?"

"Creative Writing," I tell him. "You?"

"Business,"

"Wow, that's intense," I say, impressed.

"It's in the family," he shrugs.

Just as I'm about to ask where he's from, I catch Caroline approaching in the corner of my eye, a look of suspicion plastered on her face

"Well, hello there," she stretches her hand out, batting her long lashes. "Caroline Forbes," she grins. Damon smiles, but doesn't seem to mean it. He looks at me again. I see Caroline's confused face as he doesn't seem to be interested in her.

"So, I better go..." he mutters. " Caroline suddenly shakes her head.

"Oh, wait!" she says, holding out her finger. "Can I have your number?" she asks.

Wait, what?

Damon hesitates, looking at me, but Caroline continues.

"Oh, don't worry. I will make _sure_ she calls you," she waves her hand in my direction.

Oh. My. God. Caroline!

"I'm so sorry," I mouth to him. As he and I look at each other, I see him considering her, and I'm surprised to see him return.

"Sure," he smiles, then looks at me again. "Can I see your phone?" he asks. Oh, this is the way we exchange phone numbers now. Right. I must learn to keep up with technology. I hand him my phone.

"Here," he hands me his hi-tech iPhone 5s.

I rest my case.

As I enter my phone number, I vaguely wonder if these even been _released _yet. Damon hands me my phone back as I finish with his.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he grins at me, and I feel my heart suddenly speed.

_Wow..._

"Oh, it's Elena Gilbert," I say. Damon grins and bends down to grab his duffle-bag.

"Caroline," he nods at her, then looks at me. "Elena," he grins, "May I suggest you keep better track of your wallet," he smirks, and then is gone.

I'm still staring at him and as Caroline walks in front of me with that you-so-like-him-look, I snap out of it.

"Oh, my _god,"_ she breathes. "You _so_ like him," she says.

I shake my head. "No, no, no, no," I lie. "I've only just met him, how can I like him?" I scoff. "Besides, odds are I'll never see him again,"

"Not if you ignore the number burning a hole in your purse," Caroline raises an eyebrow at me, and I shake my head.

"Okay, we'll whether or not you like him, he _definitely_ likes you," She grins.

"I met him in an _airport, _Caroline," I remind her. "It's nothing." I tell her, though I know that she's still shipping it. Despite whatever she's conjuring in her dirty mind, I will never see him again.

* * *

"Elena! Caroline!" Bonnie squeals, her amber eyes glittering as she pulls us both into a tight hug. "Finally, I've been waiting for the two of you!" she smiles, holding up an elegant, silver dress. She flips her raven hair to the side. Caroline's eyes suddenly gleam with the same streak present in Bonnie's.

"Oh, now you're talking!" Caroline raises her hand in the air, which Bonnie meets with her own palm. I moan, walking into my room with my suitcase, trailed by both of them.

"Come on, Elena!" Bonnie wails. Suddenly, I feel her foot kick mine. "We're going out," she says firmly. "To celebrate."

I sigh as I roll over onto my back, facing the two of them.

"We just got here, Bonnie," I say. Caroline steps in front of Bonnie, shaking her head. "Exactly. We just _got_ here." she says placing her hands on her hips.

"We have to go out! It's our first night back, and we need to socialize," Caroline exclaims as she throws her hands in the air.

"Okay, fine," I surrender, running my hands through my hair. Fighting Caroline solo and winning is possible; fighting her _and_ Bonnie? _Im_possible. Caroline claps her hands gleefully.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cries, and I look up to see the two of them jumping in the air with excitement. How old are we? I fall onto my bed. I see Caroline come stand over me.

"Were going to make you look irresistible," she says with a wicked voice.

* * *

"Its really loud!" I shout to Caroline over the upbeat dance music. She has been dancing with her boyfriend, Tyler Lockwood, for half of the time we've been here. She shoots a look of confusion at me. "it's really loud!" I shout again, raising my voice. She shrugs and then waves her hand dismissively, lacing her arms around Tyler's neck. I throw my hands over my shoulders. I give up! Deciding to settle for a small beverage, I wander over to the bar and pull out my ID.

"And what can I get you, beautiful?"

I don't even have my wallet out before I hear the bartender in front of me. I glance up, and a young, attractive man with blonde hair stares at me through hooded eyes, and I suddenly cross my arms over my exposed chest.

"I just need a couple glasses of Margarita, please," I say as I hand over my ID and credit card, but instead of taking them, he winks at me.

"Consider it on the house, beautiful," he says, and I swallow. I'm not so used to this in-your-face kind of attention, and I brush off his attempts.

"Thank you," I say, and suddenly, I jump as I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Matt," I sigh, relieved. "You scared me,"

"Sorry," he shouts as he hops up on the barstool. "I just couldn't stand to watch Caroline and Tyler any longer," he makes a disgusted face, and i turn my head over to see Caroline and Tyler dancing in such confined space you'd think that hey were stuck in a shower together. I immediately sympathize for Matt. He and Caroline had had a _very _brief fling over the summer before sophomore year. Caroline wasn't really as into it as he was. I'm lucky that they managed to stay friends, otherwise i'd be playing psychiatrist.

"Yeah, that's a bit," I sigh as I take my drink and swallow it hole. I don't hesitate to reach for the second shot.

"Woah, Elena," Matt chuckles as I slam the second shot glass onto the mahogany bar. "Don't get hammered,"

"Trust me," I tell him, my head suddenly fuzzing. "I'm fine,"

As I slide off of the barstool, I stumble my way to the bathroom.

Fruity aroma slaps me in the face as i enter the bathroom. The Britney Spears music still pounds inside my head and I feel dizzy as I enter a stall. I'm in and out in two minutes, but I stop to look at myself in the mirror. Caroline has gone overboard tonight. Like Hollywood Film Festival overboard. My hair is in spirals, a little shorter than it is when it's straight. She applied dark gray shadow on my eyelids, and my lips are puffy and a glossy rosy pink. My cheeks have matching blush, and I look like a model. I can barely walk in these stilettos of Lexi's, and my golden sequin top is too short. My black skinny jeans are hugging my legs tightly. I laugh at the ridiculous girl in the mirror. Deciding I'm going to vomit if I continue to gaze at myself, I grab my bag and open the door. As I close the door slowly, though I don't know why, as the music is far too loud for it's booming slam to be heard, I trip and fall on my face. This is why I never wear heels. I look up and no one seems to have noticed. I am just on my knees when someone's hands are on my shoulders helping me up.

"Woah," he says, chucking. "Are you alright?" he asks, concerned.

"Hey, maybe she's drunk, man," I hear another man's voice. "Maybe you ought to take her home and..._you_ _know,"_ the strange voice snorts obnoxiously.

Wait.

I know that voice.

No...

"Shut up, man," the guy who helped me up scolds. "Have you been drinking?" he asks, looking anxiously at me. I completely ignore the man in front of me as I look up at the group of men by the wall. And my suspicion is confirmed as I'm met with the electric gaze of Damon Salvatore.

* * *

When he catches my gaze, his laughter immediately ceases. I swallow. I watch sideways as he jumps off of the ledge and walks up to me.

"Oh, my god," he breathes, more to himself than to anyone else.

"What?" asks the other guy.

"I know her," he says quietly, his eyes wide as they meet mine.

"You do?" asks the other guy, shocked.

"Yeah, Enzo, I do," he snaps, and I'm suddenly in front of a complete stranger as the cold tone escapes from Damon's mouth.

"How?" Enzo asks. Damon takes my chin, forcing me to look into his eye.

"We met at the airport," he tells Enzo.

"Elena," Damon says. I look up, hazed.

"What?" I smile, giggling.

"Damn it," he snaps. "She's drunk,"

"Well, how old is she?" Enzo asks.

"I don't know," Damon says, and he's making his anger well. "She's in her fourth year her at Whitmore."

"I can take her home," Enzo offers.

Hmm. I'll settle for that.

Suddenly, a thought crosses my mind.

"No...Care...Bon..." I sigh, not having the strength to tell them that I'm not alone. I have no idea where they are. This place is too big

"I'll come with you," Damon says, and my eyes widen in shock.

Wait, what?

"Alright," mutters Enzo. "I'll grab my keys," he says and goes to the table to retrieve his jacket.

"I can walk," I slur, but Damon shakes his head.

"Elena, you can't even stand," he scolds, and I suddenly feel as if I'm being treated like a disobedient child. Can he let go of me? I struggle to get out of his hold, but he tightens his grip, plus: I'm too drunk to fight.

"Oh, no," he chuckles darkly, and I think he's enjoying my struggle. "You're drunk. You're not going _anywhere._," he orders.

Excuse me? I may be drunk, but I am not about to be bossed around like some disobedient child. Where is Caroline? I haven't seen her or the others anywhere.

"I'm not a child and you don't need to treat me that way," I say bitterly.

"If your under the legal drinking age, then yes, you are," he snaps.

"I'm in college!" I hiss. "I'm not in high school,"

"Enzo, check her wallet for her license," Damon hollers.

"Okay," Enzo sighs, and I feel him dig into my purse and fish out my license. I let out a whimper once I see it in his hands.

"Here," Enzo sighs. Damon takes my license and I moan.

"Well, well, well," he scolds, eyeing my driver's license. "Your were born in '92," he sighs. "Which makes you twenty, which is under the legal drinking age," he says.

"Leave me alone," I slur.

"Dude, she's not looking too great..." Enzo says, and just then, I feel a wave of nausea hit.

"Get her outside," Damon snaps Suddenly, I feel arms slide underneath my arms, and Damon is helping me walk out. Through my blurred vision, I make out Enzo in front, leading us out of the bar.

"No," I gasp. Caroline... "My friends.." I sigh. I need to find them, but I don't have the strength to.

"You can call them from the car," Damon says.

"Please..." I breathe, and I trip onto the ground.

"Pull the car around," Damon hollers to Enzo. Will nods and runs out the door, and Damon bends down to me. "So much for the girl I met at the airport," he scolds. I look up into his fierce blue gaze. "Like you can talk," I snap. He sighs, and scoops me up into his arms. No. I can't go.

But darkness consumes me.

* * *

"So what do we do now?"

I hear Enzo's voice. Who is he talking to?

"I guess we will just have to take her to my place," A snappy voice growls.

Damon...

"Dude, chill down," Enzo says cautiously.

"Chill down?" Damon laughs coldly, and goosebumps form on my arms from the chill in his tone.

"Yes," Enzo replies gruffly.

"I have a complete stranger the back seat of the car who is heavily drunk, and under the legal drinking age," he snaps. "And you tell me to 'chill down'?" He's angry.

"If she is such a complete stranger, why are you worried about her getting arrested. Hell, why do you care at all?"

I don't hear a response as I drift under again.

* * *

**AN:**PLEASE FAVE/FOLLOW. Oh, and PLEASE **_REVIEW :) _**It motivates me to update more!

**PS:** Please check out my other TVD/DE stories! I'd _REALLY_ appreciate it :)

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	2. Two

**CHAPTER 2:**

I awake with a jolt. Where am I? I rub my eyes as I turn my neck. Shit! My head is throbbing louder than the music at the bar last night.

Last night.

I look around. The room looks like it could belong to some famous celebrity, maybe Ashton Kutcher, or Leonardo DiCaprio. As I suddenly feel a warm sense of comfort, I realize that I'm laying in a bed.

Wait.

Who's bed?

Wait.

Damon...

Suddenly. I remember what happened last night. I put my head in my hands as the images come flashing before me like a montage. Why was I so stupid? I spot two pills on the nightstand, and I scoff. When I move the glass from the table, I see a tiny yellow Post-It underneath. My eyebrows knit together as I carefully pick it up.

_Just take it._

My mind suddenly clouds as I deduce what his message means. Is he threatening me? I wouldn't be surprised, if I'm being honest. After last night, I have absolutely no idea who the hell brought me here last night.

After a slight pinch in my head, I sigh as I scoop the pills in my hand and pop them in my mouth, swallowing the water to wash down the medication. Suddenly wide awake, I swing my legs over the bed, my head already numbing. As I glance down at my small feet, I notice that I'm solely in sweatpants and my undershirt.

Wait.

These aren't my sweatpants.

They're far too big to be my sweatpants.

With my stomach suddenly blooming with uncertainty, I push myself up from the bed as I walk down a long corridor and into a larger room. The walls are a brilliantly medium-toned blue, and there is a huge plasma TV in the corner. As I near it, I feel in awe. I've never seen such a large TV before. I never needed nor wanted one for myself. I hardly watch Tv anyway, so I just saw no point. As I wander deeper into the room, I notice the overwhelmingly white kitchen and the beautiful crystal walls overlooking Richmond. Just as I wonder how far away I am from campus, I spot Whitmore in the distance. Maybe about a fifteen minute drive due to the city traffic.

"You're up," a voice says, causing me to whip around, my heart racing from being startled.

And when I catch sight of Damon shirtless, my ability to speak flies out the window.

Dear, god. As my eyes run over Damon's body, I have no doubt in my mind that my cheeks are surely beat red. My mind screams at me to turn around, but my feet seem to have a mind of it's own. Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with the too short distance between us. I immediately scold myself as _very _inappropriate images of Damon flash before me. What's worse is the fact that even though I've never seen a guy shirtless standing in front of me like he is, I know that Damon is surely without a doubt one of the most beautiful creatures to ever do so.

Shirt or no shirt.

As my eyes trail down his front, I notice that he's wearing a pair of black sweatpants that hug his hips perfectly.

And my eyes widen in realization.

These are his sweatpants.

As I scramble to think of anything but that fact, a thought pops into my mind.

"Where am I?" I whisper, to nervous and embarrassed to speak louder.

He walks toward me, and I swallow, blinking. Unfortunately, I catch his eyes, and I'm reminded of their fierce gaze being on me last night.

_Do not be affected, do not be affected._

"My apartment," he sighs. He stops right in front of me. "How are you feeling?" he says softly, though I hear his chilling tone.

"Alright," I nod, glancing downward in attempt to distract myself. "How did I get here?" I ask. He takes a deep breath, then sighs.

"You were drunk last night," he says bitterly, "And I brought you here because you passed out before I could get you to tell me where you lived," he adds.

"No, I got that part," I tell him. "I just don't understand why you thought that you could just take charge and pile me into your car without my consent."

"Elena, you could've been arrested for drinking while underage, which could've gotten you kicked out of college. Did you want me to have left you there with the risk of being arrested?"

"Actually, yes," I nod firmly, and the shard of hurt I see in his eyes lasts as long as my guilt as something comes into my mind.

"Wait," I say, crossing my arms over my stomach. "What were you doing at that bar? It's on Whitmore campus." I ask.

Suddenly, Damon sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. "Because I go there as well,"

Wait, what?

"Why didn't you say something?" I wonder. I don't know why I'm particularly curious about his answer, but I am.

"I would've told you, but it didn't cross my mind." he shrugs as he picks up a shirt and throws it on. I immediately relax as his body cannot be a distraction for me anymore. I need to be fully focused on this conversation.

"How come I've never seen you around campus?" I ask, frowning. Whitmore's a remotely small campus. No bigger than maybe five thousand students.

"I just transferred this year. And I'm not undergrad." he says, and I blink in confusion.

"Wait, how old _are_ you?" I frown.

"Twenty-six," he says bluntly, and I suddenly feel as if I've offended him. "I'm in my fourth year of Grad school," he explains, and I assume he knew where I was getting at.

As I'm about to ask one more question, my cell phone cries from the kitchen, and before I can grab it, Damon beats me to it and tosses it to me. I place the earpiece to my head.

"Hello?" I frown, curious to who it is as I neglected to see the caller ID.

"Elena!" Caroline's voice squeaks as I imagine her waving her hands around in exaggeration. "Where the hell are you? You never came home last night!"

"Er, I called for a ride last night," I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but I know it's a weak try. I don't even believe it.

"From who?" Caroline asks.

_Think! Or forever face the overwhelming curiosity that Caroline has been blessed with!_

"Just..someone," I murmur as I shoot a glance at Damon. His blue eyes are fixed on me, and I imagine him wondering what my conversation is. Tearing my gaze from him, I draw my attention back to Caroline. Suddenly, I hear her sigh and begin to think I actually got her to back off, but then my hope is destroyed as I hear her gasp.

"Are you with Sexy Airport guy?" I hear her grin.

_Busted, Elena. You underestimate the girl too much._

Knowing that no good will come out of lying to Caroline, I cave.

"Yes," I mutter, and my eyes squeeze shut as I hear a shriek on the other end of the line.

"Oh, my god!" she cries. "I knew it! You _do _like him!" she says excitedly. Knowing I can't nor wouldn't discuss Damon over the phone with Caroline while he's not five feet away from me, I seek an outing.

"Listen, I have to go." I say. "I'll be home soon."

Before she can ask or scream any more, I shut my phone and stuff it into my pockets of my pants. Er, I mean Damon's pants.

"I should take you home," he says softly. Relieved that the hard part is over. I let out a sigh, but he grabs my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"I do apologize about last night," he says quietly. "But I just didn't want anything worse to happen to you," he says, and closes his eyes, as if recalling some unbearable memory. When he opens them they are soft.

"Get your things together. I'll drive you home," he says and walks away. What? Did I get through to him, or did he just feel guilty on his own? Deciding to stop over-thinking things, I turn toward the back room, and I'm suddenly reminded that I'm in his clothes.

"Um," I say shyly. He turns around to look at me. "I don't have any clothes," I tell him.

Damon smiles lightly. "Come here," he says, holding out his hand. For some reason, I follow and take it. And the feeling from the contact sends electric shocks resonating throughout my body.

Damon leads me back down the hall, but turns right instead of left. He opens the door to a room with a bed -which is barely noticeable as there are boxes surrounding it. He turns and unlocks what looks like a closet door, and in the bottom, a container full or women's clothing sits He's not married.. Is he? He's on college, so probably not. But just in case, I quickly glance down at his ring finger, which is not bearing a golden band. No wedding ring. A sister? I don't think he has a sister.

"Who's clothes are these?" I ask before I can stop myself. He frowns down at me, and I stare up at him, wondering if he'll answer my question or not.

"My exes, they've left their stuff here," he murmurs.

Exes? How many? Judging by the amount of clothing, I would say a lot, but I can't be sure. They could all be just from two girls, there's no proof.

I nod, unsure of what to say.

"Here," he bends down and throws me a green ruffle top, and a denim skirt. "This should fit you,"

"Let's hope so," I say, and when he dismisses himself quietly, I turn to him.

"Where's the bathroom?"

Damon's lips curl up at the corners, and he points to a door that's right behind me.

_Duh, Elena_.

"Oh, okay," I laugh, embarrassed. "Thanks,"

As I watch Damon's retreating back, I wander into the pitch black bathroom. As I flip on the switch, the light comes to life with a flicker, and a beautiful large marble bathtub is exposed. It's so big that I'm not sure that it's not a hot tub. Turning to the mirror, I stare at myself sadly. My make up has faded, and my hair is a messy ponytail, and I look the poster child for bed-head.. As I rustle the clothes in my hands, I glance down I look at the clothes, sighing. The shirt's cute, but not exactly my flavor. The skirt, however, is. As I take of my tank top, I feel a soreness at my arms. As I wonder what had happened to them, I remember.

Oh, right, I fell on them.

I slap my tank top onto the tiled floor, and as I slide on the green ruffle shirt, I catch a whiff of smoke. What the? Is this old thrift clothing? Or, were they burned? Ignoring the thought, I pull it down my stomach, and it's cuter on me than it is off, surprisingly. I slip off the sweatpants and toss them aside with my tank top and step into the denim skirt. Okay, I have to admit this is a decent outfit, despite my dislike for ruffles. I suddenly spot a hairbrush, and I decide to run it under water. Accidentally burning myself, I get the water to lukewarm, and place the brush under the running water. I bend down and grab my clothes, setting them atop the counter and place the damp brush down beside them. I quickly pull my binder out and bring the brush to it, gently running it through my hair. By the time I finish, I quickly wipe off my faded make up with toilet paper, and finally exit the bathroom with my clothes. I quickly run into the back room and fetch my purse, then make my way to the main room. Atop one of the island chairs, he is set, focusing intently on his laptop. As I approach him, he turns to me and shuts his laptop. As he gets up and moves toward me, I swallow nervously.

"Shall we go?" he asks.

I nod.

* * *

**AN:**PLEASE FAVE/FOLLOW. Oh, and PLEASE **_REVIEW :) _**It motivates me to update more!

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	3. Update

Hi all. I am just writing to give you an update with where I am in this whole story..

first- I know that it's been a bit since I've updated. My family has recently lost a member unexpectedly, so we have been trying to adjust to that fact. I haven't been in the best mood to write so it's been a but hard. however, I do have definite plans to finish this story in the future. unfortunately I cannot make any promises with how long it will take me to update. certainly not before the new year that I know as we are trying to celebrate the holidays in light of the situation. But what I can promise is that that I will Finish the story. It's just taking a while given the circumstances. Thank you all for understanding and I hope to be back and writing for you all soon!

xoxo


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